


First Love, Last Rites

by panickyintheuk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Nemeton, Ritual Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panickyintheuk/pseuds/panickyintheuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The strongest counterbalance to blood magic is sex magic. The Nemeton has been sustained with blood magic so far, but it doesn't have to be."</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Love, Last Rites

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Ian McEwan short story, but has nothing to do with the story itself. It's a pretty pretentious title for what is essentially an excuse-to-fuck fic.
> 
> I really wanted to get this posted before season 3B started so it was still _vaguely_ canon-compliant. That is to say, I wrote a lot of it in a hurry and didn't get it beta'd, so I shoulder the entire blame for this.

"The strongest counterbalance to blood magic is sex magic," says Lydia without preamble. That's literally her opening line.

"Hi," says Scott, while Stiles is trying not to choke at Lydia sweeping in looking fabulous and talking about sex. Old habits die hard.

"The Nemeton has been sustained with blood magic so far, but it doesn't _have_ to be," Lydia expands.

"So, what, we fuck the tree?"

"Isaac," snaps Stiles. He needs to know this, and he doesn't have the patience for flip comments from people who have less of a stake in this than he does.

"He's not far off, actually," says Lydia breezily. "Someone should fuck _on_ the tree. There are a lot of factors that would make it more effective, though." Scott opens his mouth to ask, but Lydia doesn't really need encouragement to lay out her knowledge. "First of all, it should be someone with a connection to the Nemeton - " she gestures at Scott, Allison and Stiles; "secondly, it would help if at least one of the parties were a virgin - " she gestures at Isaac and Stiles, who both scowl; "thirdly, it would help if it were on the full moon, but that's probably not a great idea, unless it's Allison and Stiles." At this, she makes an apologetic face at Allison, which Stiles can't help but resent, even though he knows it's not malicious.

"Okay," says Scott slowly, letting out a long breath. "I have a suggestion. Obviously there's history between Allison and me, and it might be weird, but... Isaac, Allison, I know you guys want to start seeing each other - " he holds up a hand to stop either of them from interrupting " - and, I mean. Isaac and me are..."

"Close," says Isaac hoarsely.

"That would be two people affected by the Nemeton, plus a virgin. And it's probably the least weird option for everyone? Like, I've already been with Allison and she's gonna be with Isaac sooner or later."

"That's... actually perfect," muses Lydia. "Especially since it'd be your last time with Allison, and Isaac's first. Firsts and lasts, endings and beginnings, they all lend power to the ritual."

"Conveniently, this totally leaves me out, even though I'm a twofer," says Stiles sourly.

"Jeez, Stiles, I just - you're never gonna be in a relationship with any of us, you know?"

Well, that makes him feel _tons_ better.

"I don't know if I want my first time with Allison to be because of some ritual," Isaac cuts in quietly. He looks absolutely mortified, and he won't meet anyone's eyes. "You haven't even explained what it means, sustaining the Nemeton with sex magic, what difference does that make?"

"Blood magic attracts blood. It wants to sustain itself. It wants blood to be spilled, violently. Sex magic..."

"Makes everyone horny?" hazards Stiles.

"It attracts sexual energy. We'll have to be vigilant, to make sure there isn't a spike in sex crimes, for example, but I don't anticipate that happening, as long as the ritual itself is consensual. Consensual sex is a different energy than any kind of sexual violence."

"So what, you're saying that if we don't do this, we could be indirectly responsible for more deaths?" asks Isaac.

"I wouldn't put it that way," says Lydia. "But, yes."

There's a silence.

"Doesn't sound like we have much choice, then," says Allison briskly. "Let's not make this a bigger deal than it has to be, okay?" Isaac and Scott nod.

"Great," says Lydia. "So with two bitten wolves, I would advice against doing it on the full moon. I know your control is much better than it was, especially yours, Scott, but the benefit isn't worth the risk. The new moon is almost as powerful, and much less dangerous. We've missed the first, so the next one will be on the thirtieth. That means you have just over three weeks to get used to the idea."

#

The next week or so is awkward, to say the least. Not the way Stiles would have anticipated, though. He goes over to Scott's to play video games with him and Isaac, and they're avoiding eye contact. Okay, _that_ he expected. But he didn't expect to come back from the bathroom and find them springing apart, Isaac red-faced, both of them visibly hard through their sweatpants.

"I'm not 100% sure what counts as virginity, but I'd watch yourselves," he says from the doorway. "And you couldn't have waited until I left? Jeez."

"Sorry," says Scott. "We seem to be having some impulse control issues."

"No kidding. Does Allison know about this?"

"Kind of," says Isaac. "We may have got a bit carried away just now, but she's aware of the general... principle..."

"Okay, whatever," says Stiles, holding up his hands. "Just don't fuck up the ritual, okay?"

He feels like he's done his part, and they get back to playing Eternal Sonata (the only 3-player game Scott owns, though _why_ he owns it Stiles has no idea). After another hour or so, Stiles is starting to get tired, and he's about to head off when suddenly the air changes. He's gripped with a feeling he's only felt before when he was filled with rage and running headlong into battle, but it's not coming from him exactly. It's bloodlust and excitement. He glances at Scott, who meets his eyes, sees whatever's in them and nods. His phone beeps, and he looks at it.

"That was Allison," he says. "She felt it too. Isaac?"

"Derek's back," says Isaac simply, looking pleased - and a little freaked out, but only at their reaction.

Stiles should have realised that Derek had as strong a connection with the Nemeton as any of them. He didn't realise it would react like a predator scenting prey, though. He shivers uncomfortably.

"Right," says Scott, closing his eyes. "Yeah, I - couldn't focus, but you're right. He's close."

The words are barely out of his mouth when there's a knock at his door. Isaac springs up, then looks at Scott. "Go for it," says Scott.

Isaac rushes to the door and opens it, gives Derek a once-over, then throws his arms around him. "I missed you, you asshole," Stiles can just hear him mumble. He envies Isaac his easy physicality with Derek - not that he's ever really seen it before, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, he guesses, and now that Derek's not his alpha anymore maybe it's less intimidating. Anyway, Derek hugs him back, briefly, then pulls away.

"I just came to let you know I was back in town," he says to Scott respectfully. "I don't intend to stay long."

"You're very welcome to," says Scott. "There's always a place for you in the pack, and - "

Derek shakes his head sharply. "Thanks, but I... don't think it'd be the right choice. I'll be staying for at least a couple of weeks, though, to tie up some loose ends. Cora's fine, by the way, she sends her... well, she says hi, anyway."

"Say hi back," says Scott.

"Will you have time to hang out?" asks Isaac hopefully.

"Yeah, sure," says Derek, cracking the first smile Stiles has seen on his face in... as long as he can remember, actually. "Take care of yourself, huh?"

"You too," says Isaac meaningfully.

"You know me," says Derek wrily, and Isaac actually cuffs him on the back of the head, and Derek's smile gets even wider.

Jesus, he looks good. His hair has grown out a little, and it turns out it has a curl to it. He looks at ease. He's lost some bulk, but he's still in better shape than pretty much anyone Stiles has ever seen in real life. He has to turn away.

#

Lydia answers the door wearing a man's shirt and pajama bottoms, with no make-up on and her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. Stiles is half pleased that their relationship has progressed to a point where she'll let him see her like this, and half disappointed. It feels like they hit a point of no return, romance-wise, a while back. Then again, that possibility really only ever existed in his own head anyway.

"Hey, listen, I need to talk to you."

"Obviously."

"Is your mom home?"

"She's in her room. It's two floors up, she can't hear anything. You want a drink?"

"Uh, no, I won't stay long. I just needed to ask you something."

She makes a 'get on with it' gesture.

"Okay, so, Derek's back. You probably heard. And I was thinking about what you said about beginnings and endings, and. Okay, so, Derek is tied to the Nemeton too. I can't tell you why, but - "

"I know already."

"... Oh. Well, okay. So... I thought that if he were involved in the changeover, that might make it more effective? Plus we could do it on the full moon."

"Makes sense. But you knew that already. What do you really want to ask?"

"I just needed to know I wasn't... making shit up so I could have sex with Derek? I needed a second opinion."

For the first time, Lydia smiles. "I see. Well, I don't doubt that your attraction to Derek helped you come up with this idea, but the idea itself is solid. Just don't pressure him into anything, okay? Derek's been used enough. Well, we all have." She frowns a little.

"Yeah. You're right. Thanks, Lyds."

#

Derek agreed more easily than Stiles thought he would. He was careful to stress that it wasn't their only plan, and they didn't _have_ to, and it might not work anyway. But Derek said he'd do it, so they plan to meet in the woods at 8pm on Wednesday night.

Stiles breathes deeply as his Jeep rumbles to the meeting point, trying to calm his nerves. He stretched himself out already, at home (and his boxer-briefs are kind of sticky from the lube), but he has more. No condoms, though - Lydia said no barriers. They assume that werewolves can't contract STIs, although they don't actually _know_ , but Stiles has taken enough dumb chances at this point. What's one more?

So he feels like he's relatively well-prepared, until they actually get to the Nemeton (an awkward silence prevailing as they walk together). Then he realises.

"Shit, I didn't bring a blanket or anything. This isn't gonna be comfortable," says Stiles. He'll get splinters.

"It doesn't matter if I get scratched up. Do you want to ride me?"

"No, I want your weight on top of me, pinning me down. I've thought about it." Derek stills. "Look, if we're gonna do this, you might as well know I'm not gonna be gritting my teeth. At least, uh - you know what I mean. I wouldn't have wanted it to happen like this, maybe, but I've wanted it, okay?"

Derek nods dumbly, then shrugs off his jacket and lays it across the surface of the Nemeton. Stiles hesitates.

"Uh, I read online that it hurts more if you do it face-to-face, especially the first time. But can we try it that way?"

"Whatever you want," says Derek quietly.

"Hey, you can back out at any time, okay? Just say the word." He ducks to try and catch Derek's eye.

"No, it's fine. It's just weird."

"Well, that's putting it mildly. How about we just try to... power through the weirdness?"

"Okay," says Derek with a small smile.

So Stiles strips off his jeans and underwear - leaves his shirt and hoody on, because it's cold, okay - and settles himself on top of Derek's jacket, which smells amazing. Then he brandishes the lube. "You wanna?"

"I don't really... know how?"

"Sure you do, it's foolproof. C'mon, I already loosened it for ya." He giggles a little hysterically. He's probably not helping to set the mood, but he has no roadmap for this situation. Derek approaches him warily, like one or the other of them is an easily-startled wild animal. Stiles isn't totally sure which.

"C'mon, man, look at your fingers. So much thicker than mine." His voice has gone embarrassingly breathy now, and his cock is hard as nails, and he kind of can't take his eyes off Derek's hands, but he can hear Derek almost-laughing, so that's... good?

Derek crouches down next to him and takes the lube, then coats two of his fingers experimentally. Two might be a bit much, but Stiles isn't going to say anything unless it hurts like fuck.

He slides them in gingerly, and it really only stings a little. Stiles breathes deeply and tries to relax.

"Are you okay?" says Derek, sounding a little panicked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just give me a second. Then add some more lube and do three, and then just fuck me, okay?" He finally remembers to bear down, and Derek makes a small noise. "Oh my God that is so much better. Keep doing the thing and then get inside me." Derek's making that sound again, laughing through his nose. It's pretty adorable. He takes his time fingering him, but finally he shoves his jeans down to his thighs - he's going fucking commando, Jesus - and gets on top of Stiles, pushing inside slowly. It does hurt a little, but mostly it feels good, and Derek smells of clean sweat - Stiles has only smelled him when he was acrid with sickness or fear, but like this he smells perfect. He wants to bury his face in Derek's armpit, but he can't bend that way, so he buries it in his neck instead - there's a little sweat on the stubble just beneath his jawline, and Stiles sucks at it tenderly, loving the prickling sensation against his lips and tongue. He thinks vaguely that he'd probably love it even more between his thighs and chokes on a moan, clenches around the fullness that is Derek's cock in his ass.

"You okay?" says Derek, a little breathless.

"Yeah, fucking... yes." Stiles angles his head clumsily to try for a kiss, and Derek kisses back - Stiles wasn't sure he would - and sucks lightly on his tongue for a second, still fucking Stiles with gentle strokes.

Stiles pulls away for breath, and because he has to talk. "Oh, Jesus, you're so good. Your control is so good. And it's the full moon. Look at you. You can let go, baby, I don't mind, I want you to..."

Derek's eyes flash blue. "If I fucked you as hard as I wanted to there'd be nothing left," he mutters darkly.

He's not sure if that's even supposed to be dirty talk or if Derek is just warning him. "Jesus Fucking Christ." His hands spasm at Derek's sides. "Can I touch myself?" he asks breathlessly, not sure why he's seeking permission, but it feels right.

"Can you come without it?"

"Probably," Stiles admits reluctantly. On the one hand, it's not like Derek really knows what he's doing (not that he has any complaints), but on the other, Stiles is a virgin and Derek is Derek. He's not going to have any trouble coming.

"You don't have to, but... that'd be hot."

Stiles bites his lip and nods. "Yeah, okay, I'm gonna play with my nipples though, yeah?"

Derek hums approval and kisses him again. Stiles kind of can't get enough of the heat and taste of his mouth. His lips are softer than Stiles might have expected, although it makes sense, with the healing. And the contrast between that and the stubble is - damn, Stiles really likes the stubble. He breaks away for a second to rub his face against it.

He gets lost in the rhythm for a while, and then, (more by luck than judgment, it seems), Derek hits his prostate, hard, and Stiles' orgasm is surprised out of him. Derek's hand is there, suddenly, cupping his balls. On the edge of his consciousness, Stiles is vaguely aware that he must be holding himself up with one hand as he uses the other to wring Stiles out. That's how he feels, like he's being emptied, cleaned out, like he's being given a fresh start. Then again, maybe that's just his first assisted orgasm talking. He feels floaty and invincible.

Derek's still fucking him - he's a little rougher now, he must be close. Stiles grabs handfuls of his ass to encourage him, and whispers "come on, fill me up, I want you to, I need it," until Derek is coming inside him, still thrusting even as he comes and kissing Stiles filthily. Then he slumps down, and wiggles until his head is resting on Stiles' chest.

Stiles feels on top of the world, but Derek is kind of twitchy and restless. "What's up with you?" says Stiles sleepily.

"I wanna, um..."

"I will probably say yes to anything you wanna do right now. I just need you to use your words."

"I wanna eat you out."

"Oh my GOD. Go to town."

Derek slides down his body and goes for his ass with absolutely no hesitation this time, pushing both his thumbs in followed by his tongue. Stiles just kind of melts into Derek's jacket until Derek's satisfied. He's actually pretty surprised that he doesn't get hard again. He was right - stubble between his thighs is _fantastic_.

#

He loves Derek's jacket. "I love your jacket," he says, "can I have it?"

"No."

"It's got my jizz on it."

" _No_!" Derek scowls up at him. "Your phone is making noises."

Stiles feels around for his jeans (his fingers brushing over claw-marks in the tree, he notes with satisfaction), fishes the keys out of his pocket, and presses them into Derek's hand. "Fetch," he says. He doesn't even open his eyes to take in Derek's - no doubt _hilarious_ \- glare. Derek goes, though. It fleetingly occurs to Stiles that Derek could just leave him here and drive off in his jeep. Well, if he does that, Stiles is _definitely_ keeping the jacket.

Derek's back in about 30 seconds, throwing Stiles' phone at his stomach. "Oof. Come back here, I'm cold." The phone is still ringing, so Stiles answers it as Derek settles back against him, and uses the other hand to pet his hair. He feels too good to second-guess himself right now.

"Hey, Scott."

"Did you feel that?"

"What, the Earth move?"

"Dude, come on, there's something different with the Nemeton, right? It feels different."

"Did you call Allison already?"

"Yeah," says Scott guiltily. Stiles can't even drum up any resentment right now. "She felt it too."

"Good different?"

"Yeah, I guess. We think so. But what if it's -"

"No, it's fine. Lydia and I came up with an alternative plan, but I couldn't be sure it had worked because I was distracted."

Scott is silent for a few seconds. "Okay, first of all, tomorrow you're gonna tell me what this plan was. And who you're with, because it's not Lydia. But also, does this mean - "

"That you don't have to have that threesome anymore? Yeah, buddy, that's right. You don't have to. But there's nothing stopping you, y'know. In fact, you don't even have to wait until the new moon anymore. You could call Allison over and get started right now, if you wanted."

"Um."

"Just saying. Think about it. Anyway, I gotta go. Have fun."

"But - " Stiles hangs up and grins down at Derek, knowing full well he heard every word of their conversation.

"Scott says it totally didn't work and we need to do it again. Maybe get fully naked next time."

Derek snorts into his stomach. "Yeah, okay."

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably my last ever canon-compliant fic! If it even counts as canon-compliant. I skipped a lot of 3A. Whoops.


End file.
